Broken Lives Matter

https://themighty.com/2017/04/my-disability-is-part-of-who-i-am/?utm_source=Disability_Page&utm_medium=Facebook&fbclid=IwAR14HZU_JGHb868hZHQuIquVvSeforIyovmIBT_1h1lICM46Yk3TDmI9nok This popped up in my Facebook feed, as I am a loyal follower of several disability sites. And it spoke to me on a very deep level about something I'm really just starting to realize. As the author Lisa, says in her article, it's taken me a while to come to terms with exactly what bothered me when people say "I don't see your disability." Now I realize it bothers me because to not see my disability is to to not see ME as I am. I mean, of course I don't want you to look down on me because I use a mobility aid. But that's just it--a mobility aid is not something to be looked down on! And therein lies the fundamental problem. In this American society, walkers and wheelchairs are for the elderly and infirm, who for various reasons don't fit the ideal image of what m

Oh what a difference a few days make! I'm not locked in anymore:) I can get to church through my usual route, and not to mention all the other places along the road that used to be blocked! I visited restaurants along that street often, and the Contemporary Art museum is like a second home:) I took the long, round-about way to church today, but found out on my way home that I'm no longer boxed into a corner! So that was lovely. I feel like it's been 100 years since I stretched my legs. One thing did occur to me as Ableist while I was out walking. The supposedly "accessible" crossing signals that tell pedestrians when to cross assume WAY too much for the downtown area. They don't say "You are on--and it is safe to cross", they say "WAIT...WAIT" and "Walk, sign says walk," withe the street names preceding them. But think about it. If you were blind (or even if you just couldn't read the street signs from across the street

This keeps showing up in my Facebook feed:)

Well, Lovelies...I'm at a loss! The construction situation downtown just keeps getting worse. I've ordered food delivery many times to avoid having to take a round-about way to the bus stop and cause my knees further discomfort. And it's better to leave as early as possible for church on Sunday, 'cause the only way to get THERE is all the way down the hill, then up and across a farther street:( And with the weather like it's been, I sweat profusely after just a few moments, though I'd have sworn I was in pretty decent shape. C'est la vie I guess. What an annoyance! I cannot wait for the day when it's cool enough to wear jeans AND a scarf around your neck, and walking my normal route to where ever I please isn't exhausting. In cooler weather I can do a mile without hardly even thinking about it. As it is, I feel every step and every divot in the broken roads they're NOT fixing.

So much construction! Over night this weekend, barrier fences sprouted around my little corner of downtown, making me feel even MORE closed-in than limited mobility. I can only imagine, looking back on it, that this is how my paraplegic fiance must have felt almost every day of his life. Save for those brief years before, and a few days years after the cancer and his subsequent injury, I know he had to have felt locked in:( With the walls closing in around ME, I try to remember that they are temporary. As with every other section of the street I have SEEN them repair and leave behind in the weeks and months prior, I know intellectually I'm not a caged animal. It just feels a little like it. Thank goodness for the motorcycles' roaring engines, and the distant train whistle, reminding me that there's plenty of the world still carrying on as usual beyond my street! And lately I've seen a number of my building-mates close to home, reminding me that they too can leave

Very Late Evening, Lovelies! Unfortunately the sun pouring through the windows today has worn me out almost as much as walking around the tiny little rural town of Douglas, MI, with a good friend, so this post won't be extremely long:( Just wanted to mention that the buildings in larger cities have given me such a good feeling about the progress the ADA standards have made! Poor little Douglas has some cute, quaint shops and plenty of equally impressive restaurants with very friendly people. But absolutely nothing is very well conceived for accessibility. And it's a shame because the town is so charming! Not to mention beautiful, with rolling fields and vineyards, and "U-Pick" orchards for raspberries and other fruits--you don't stop loving those things if you've suddenly become disabled. And if you've ALWAYS been disabled, imagine if you never knew the pure joy of eating a berry you just picked from the bush? Most of those orchards had accompanying

For a few years now, I've grown more and more disappointed with myself. Dissatisfied with my life. Unhappy. What is that? What reason have I to feel that way? Well anybody can feel sorry for himself; it's the human condition, I'm afraid. But the thing I realize is that with all the comparing I do of my life to other people's, I should realize more vividly how much I have to be THANKFUL for, not how much I don't have. I mean, maybe that sounds trite, or whatever, but honestly, I've been extremely lucky/fortunate/blessed since I finally got out of my youth. Others might pine for their "lost youth"--to me it wasn't a loss, so much as a release. I haven't suffered the symptoms of a Hydrocephalic (praise God) since my mid-late 20s. I've had some inconvenience centering around using a walker for balance because of my Cerebral Palsy, but in the grand scheme of my life, I've barely even registered any of those "inconveniences" as